


don't come home today.

by hermodernpraxis



Category: Type O Negative (Band)
Genre: 1995, Alternate Universe, Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Freeform, Gothic, Half-Vampires, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, New York, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Type O Negative, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, idk what else to put, it's vry soft i promise, its very mudane so no very weird shit lmao, just read the damn fic and support me pls, lysandra is baby, peter is a dad, ur gonna love it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24116536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermodernpraxis/pseuds/hermodernpraxis
Summary: two vampires, one being a 6'8 metal singer that hates his career and the other being a 13 year old girl that is lost, trying to survive in this very weird, human world. what could go wrong?
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Peter Steele, Peter Steele & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. and who cares...?

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all. this is my first fic on this site. please support and follow me on tumblr: shrivinglust. enjoy! please comment, leave kudos, and all of that good stuff! this is an au, so some dates and events are shifted.

_**1995**_.

a lot happened before the year was coming to her beautiful end. oj simpson’s verdict for example. “not guilty,” the judge said, as oj was sitting on the brown bench. he was accused of murdering his ex-wife, nicole brown-simpson, and guess what? he wasn’t guilty. he was free to go. although peter didn’t watch, as he was too busy walking around the woods, supervising his cats, and planning new music for the band, he was aware of how shocked the nation was. even josh, his bandmate — the keyboardist, was shocked and told him _everything_.

like he cared.

it was interesting nevertheless, though.

life for the one and only ‘green man’, peter steele, was quite interesting. or boring. or ‘mundane’. pick your poison. there is really no schedule or ‘weekly routine’. either feast or famine, as he always say. 

today was a normal monday. december 25th. christmas… the whatever-numbered day of hannukah. peter never really celebrated holidays. as a child and just growing up, he did. he was the funny boy, out of all of his family. the one that loved to give his elder sisters presents (ahem, ketchup, and whoopie cushions). the one that made sure her sisters and little cousins don’t go to school when it’s snowing (because their parents would make them, otherwise).

but this christmas was different.

ever since last year, peter’s dad, who was also named _**peter**_ , died from old age on christmas day. peter remembered the call. their backstage manager, who looked full of sympathy and remorse, holding up the phone and just calling for peter. cathy’s voice wailing through the device and peter… peter just rushing home, even though he knows he was in the middle of a tour with pantera. father’s death didn’t ruin peter, but it just… not hit him like a pile of bricks, no. it just…

it was like he had even more shit on his shoulders.

first…. he couldn’t even put it in a list. first,

he hated leaving brooklyn to tour.

he hated leaving his best job ( _working for the park. yes, picking up literal shit is fun_ ) to tour. ( _but, at least you don’t sleep on a garbage truck_ )

he hated the band life, despite it being so… ‘it is what it is’.

he hated everyone just leaving and… dying.

he hated that he slashed his wrists.

he hated that he went through breakups every day ( _let alone, can’t make a woman stay_ )

he hated that he was a vampire.

he hated that he loves his cats more than himself. 

and oh yeah, he hated men, too.

this christmas was quite different. he could’ve mourned his father’s death or celebrate him. could’ve done both, but decided to do none. it was quite… quiet. he would visit his mother and sisters, gave them all presents, but didn’t stay long. watch the people play in the snow. watch the snowfall, actually. he did a few weightlifting, but that gotten so easier, he honestly miss the sores and cramps that come afterward or when one hasn’t exercised in a while. he went to the brooklyn art museum and stayed there until it closed two hours earlier since it was… christmas. 

so, he stayed the rest of the day and evening at home, until the sunset, just watching his cats, watching a bit of television with _M.A.S.H_ on, studying a few things like how to build a door or even a house, and even rebuilding abandoned cars that mysteriously pull up on the fresh, man-made paved driveway. he didn’t want to just sit there. at least move or something. peter’s not a slob. he could never be. he remembers one of his classmates, john, who was bulkier and just more ‘better looking’ than peter in his prime… who is now a slob, complaining about insurance and his 25 year old son who just wouldn’t leave the house.

that couldn’t be him. never.

bored, reading a book called ‘ _all you need to know about: **GARDENING**_ ’, peter stood up from the couch, turned off the tv, and walked to his room. he needs to walk around, even though it was practically nighttime. he preferred the night, anyway. compared to the day, the night was just pitch black with various, low vibrations shades of violet. tiny stars twinkling and spaced out, while the bright, yellow-white moon takes up all of the attention. it was less quiet… depending on where you live, especially at a place like new york. they’re called ‘ _the city that never sleeps_ ’ for a reason. 

it was a good thing he lived in the woods, as people rarely come. moving out from his parents (and cathy) was quite an experience, as peter wasn’t the one to handle absolute change, but it was time to move on.

putting on his black coat and black, leather loafers, he went to the front door and noticed weena leap from the couch, going straight to her ‘father’. peter could only give her a little grin, as he slowly opened the door and then vanished into the darkness. peter loved cats, growing up with them, keeping them and caring for them like they were his own ‘children’, even having his own favorite, venus, before she dearly passed away. the song ‘ _death in the family_ ’ was about her, but to not be seen as ‘soft’, peter made it known it was about a girl… just a girl, _alright_. 

shutting the door, he started to walk forward around the woods. peter was never lost in the woods, as he traveled multiple routes so he knew his way around. it was just silent, the wind breezing and the sky slowly turning dark. his pale hands in his pockets, trying to regain any warmth during this cold chilly night. it’s not like he has gotten any warmth when it’s hot, too. it has been since _forever_ he gained any warmth. looking down, his hair in a tight ponytail but flyaways still… flying, all that could be heard was dead leaves crunching, thanks to the impact of peter’s loafers and the ground.

“ _haha_!”

“ _lysandra, come on_!”

“ _wait_!”

peter’s head piped up. is he hearing… voices? let alone, childlike voices? he looked around himself, back, front, left… right. nothing but the surrounding nature and him. was he hallucinating? can vampires even hallucinate? he started walking towards the voices, but as he kept walking, the voices started to fade gradually. _honk! honk!_ bright lights, car beeps, chit-chattering everyone. dammnit. he’s in the city. 

“ _lysandra, you fucking bitch_!”

the voice again. he started to rush to the voice, but no one was there at the appearance. a few minutes later and there were no more voices. peter just couldn’t yell out ‘ _hello_?’. he just couldn’t, especially if there is no one he could see or hear. he then noticed a shadow, black and wavy looking, like velocity waves, dashing through him and into the alleyways. what was that…? was that the voice…? amused by his own curiosity, peter started to chase after the shadow and into the alleyway, only to find kids… literal teenagers… on the building roof. there were ladders, but peter didn’t want to climb up. the ‘ladder’ was too small for him, anyway. so all he could do was look.

the kids were dancing, acting rowdy, horseplaying around. there was no music, but if car honking and beeping was their music, then so be it. peter wasn’t the one to intentionally (or unintentionally) go in other people’s business, even worse so, kids, but he couldn’t stop looking at this particular case. it was like, deep down, he could tell something was going to happen, sooner or later. if he had adrenaline again, his body would be flowing with it right now.

the group then focus on a girl with shaggy brown hair that stopped at her collarbone, wearing a blue shirt tucked in her black, leather jeans, with a purple jacket wrapped and tied around her waist. they looked so malicious, even one pointing a pocketknife in her direction.

_**jackpot**_.

“ _so, you’re a **what** again_?” a boy, with black curly hair, asked. another girl, who was quite tall and slender, punched his shoulder. “ _i don’t think she can understand you_.” she said. but, when peter looked at the suspect, she looked quite scared enough to understand him… or maybe because there are people, one with a weapon, literally looking at her crazy. “ _she’s a **vampire** , willy. look, her skin gotten paler_.” another boy pointed out. peter angled himself for a closer look. _**jesus**_. she looked so pale, nearly lifeless with her veins showing in her arms. she looked dehydrated, too. and her eyes.

they were wide and nearly bulging. she was scared. she kept backing away as they keep getting closer. the building was very high and peter knew that one step off, she’s done for. she stopped. “ _hey, lysandra, **watch your step**_.” the curly boy said. there was that malicious smirk creeping his face. the girl… _lysandra_ …. turned and gasped, as she was on the edge. her foot nearly stepped off, but she caught her balance. “ _you’re a **vampire** , right_? _you want to suck our blood_ ,” the tall girl mocked, in a horrendous dracula accent, “ _people like **you** don’t deserve, lys_.” the girl laughed.

all peter could do was watch and listen. teenage vampire hunters? well, that’s a start. bullying taken to a whole new level. but, could the girl defend herself? she couldn’t speak and was just standing there, backing away. she couldn’t fight or at least, bite? the giant started to have a mental fight with himself, either he should go home, help the girl, or be the bystander. “ _go on, **jump**_.” another boy, with blonde hair, demanded. there was a humorous tone under his scratchy, little pipsqueak voice. 

_lysandra_ , edging on the building, was conflicted. peter could see the furrow in her brows and the slightly tensed posture. she took one step off the building, leaned back, and…

_**peter felt a weight in his hands**_.

he looked down, seeing _lysandra_ in his hands. she was practically cradled, her eyes barely opening and her back turned from… the wall. peter looked up at the kids, who were looking down at him, and the gang gasped before backing away. their faces could no longer be seen, but just little whispers. 

‘ _who is he_?’

‘ _did you see that_?’

people are strange.

looking back down, peter still noticed that _lysandra_ haven’t woke up after falling. she couldn’t be dead. he just caught her. in fact, he doesn’t even know why he caught her. it was like a weird instinct. something he _**had**_ to do. peter knew he would rather save a cat than save a hum- _lysandra_ isn’t even human, though. _**vampire**_. the kids said it right there in front of her face and there she goes, tensed. he shifted his head down and a scent irritated his nose. 

like fresh, but cheap perfume his sisters would wear.

but, the scent wasn’t all that irritating.. it wasn’t harsh like a vampire’s. rather it was milder and sweeter. a vampire… mixed with _human_. peter was now back in conflict with himself. what should he do now? leave her alone? take her with him? track the hunters? … only to find himself walking back to his home, in the woods, while carrying the girls in his arms. holding her with one arm and using his free one, he opened the door and then went inside. the television was now one, showing ‘ _The Andy Griffith Show_ ’, and the cats…. grizzy and sharpton were awake, but the rest were still asleep. he laid the young girl down on the couch and started to analyze her.

she looked roughed up, for one. he saw bruises on her cheeks, near her lips, a busted bottom lip ( _literally_ ), and even more, veins becoming transparent. she looked like a victim from chernobyl. peter was just watching over her and even if he was a vampire, he could feel chills going down his spine. he would potentially do this to an older woman, but he’s doing right now. to a girl that looks… 10. he lowered down and noticed an eye open at the corner of his. the body started to move and stopped at a sitting fetus position. peter looked at her and god, _did she looked **scared**_. her arms wrapped around her scrawny knees, her eyes wide like carrie during the prom, and she was shivering.

though, peter can see in the dark, it was not helping this time. he could only see darkness and the girl illuminating in it, but he can barely see the color of her eyes or her veins. but that didn’t matter. she was frightened. he noticed she tried to move her shaggy bangs to cover her sight from him. obviously, that didn’t work. peter had to do something. “can you… talk?” he asked. that was basic, but intentional. he remembered one of the hunters, the tall girl, telling the curly boy that _lysandra_ might not understand him. all _lysandra_ did was sit there. “english? spanish? french? … russian?” peter asked. no answer. just empty stares.

food. kids loved food. peter had nieces, very close to marie & nancy, and they loved food. he went to the refrigerator and opened it, seeing all kinds of stuff to eat, ranging from soda to pickles. he noticed a few of his protein shakes, many flavors such as chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and caramel. he glanced back at the girl, who was now sitting down like a regular person, facing at the tv and then looked back at the shake. god, she was so _scrawny_ , though her thighs had a little meat in them ( _if that indicated anything_ ). maybe she could help herself with a shake, but no. that would be too obvious.

grabbing the pickle jar from the fridge, he unscrewed the lid and took out two pickles, one for her and the other for… him, because he could use a good snack. he noticed the frozen blood packets on the top shelf. since then, since the 80s, a disease… hiv… aids, came along. many men, especially those who were ‘gay’, were affected by it and caused a total hellhole. new york, especially, was a major hotspot for the disease. the disease would enter white blood cells, make copies, kill the original white blood cells, and the cycle repeats. 1995 was the peak year, but now that new bills were introduced, things were slowing down… or whatever. and now, there are new ways to get aids now. 

drugs.

though it was quite ignorant for peter to think such a thing and just freeze his blood, he often has to remind himself — he is not human anymore, but is a vampire. he is undead, they are dead. better to be safe, than sorry. and now that he has a possible half-vampire, a _**dhampir**_ , in his home, well, that just makes him fucking _heroic_. he thought he was the only vampire existing in this entire world, but he’s not.

walking to the living room, with two pickles in his quite large hands, _lysandra_ caught him. but, she didn’t look scared. she looked curious, her big eyes look up at his brooding one. “pickles.” he said, giving her one. he sat down and glanced at her, quite tensely. she was looking at the fermented food like she found an unknown species. confused. it was obvious she never had one, as she sucked on it and instantly made a sour pucker face. peter quietly laughed, as he slowly bit into his. pickles didn’t even taste the same anymore, as the sourness went mild.

looking at him, _lysandra_ did the same and though she still made that face, she ate it through. yeah, she was definitely a dhampir. there was silence, only just the show and weird chewing. “…so, your name is _lysandra_?” he asked, raising a brow. he turned his face towards her and she did the same. it was like she was staring through his soul ( _if he had one_ ). no answer, but she **nodded**. well, that was a response, nevertheless. “pretty name, _lysandra_ ,” he nodded, reassuring, “can you talk?” he asked.

no answer. 

she couldn’t be deaf. she just answered his question by nodding. maybe she doesn’t like talking. maybe she doesn’t trust him enough to answer anymore. she did nod to his question and doesn’t give him the ‘big eyes’ anymore… for now. he had to do this another way. he looked at the time, 9:45 PM, and looked back at _lysandra_ , who was way too engulfed with the tv. should she go to bed? does she even shower?

now he has a lot of questions in his mind. not many good ones either. he grabbed her hand and she immediately pulled it back, alarmed. her eyes were glaring daggers at him, slanted. well, that was a start. “hey, hey, _lysandra_ … i’m just going to take you to the bathroom.” peter said. although his voice was deep, he tried to make it soothing, as possible. no answer. does she even know what a bathroom was, anyway? 

“do you want to follow me?” peter asked, as that was a much better option. she nodded. he would hold her hand, but it was better not to. the two stood up and walked down the small hall to the bathroom. inside, with the light turned on, it was quite … big for a bathroom. quite wide, very white (with pints of black and red), big mirrors, a nice shower with glass windows, a rectangular bathtub beside it, and of course, the toilet and the sink.

“you know how to take a bath, right?” he asked. that was _such_ a stupid question. of course, she would know. unless… she doesn’t. _lysandra_ analyzed the tub, before rubbing her hand on the metallic faucet handle, before turning it to the slightest left. peter left to his room and found a pink, long shirt just sitting on her vanity. how lucky…

walking back to the bathroom, he noticed the bathtub filled to the nearest brim, _lysandra_ in it – fully nude, brown hair soaking wet, and looked so… innocent. a full-fledged child. though, her face looked like a mix of masculinity and femininity. quite a stark contrast from what he saw in the beginning. her legs were crossed, too. he stopped looking, as she looked up at him. he felt like a creep, anyway. 

“this,” he held up the shirt while trying not to look at her, “is your shirt. wear this.” said simply, he put it down on the sink counter and exit, shutting the door – only for it to open. he turned and shut it again, but the door slowly creaked an open. grabbing the knob tight, peter attempted to close the door again, but a force was stopping him. he let go and looked at _lysandra_ , who looked visibly serious. it was best to leave the door open, anyway. 

after her little bath, _lysandra_ dried herself and put on the pink shirt. it looked too bright on her and just looked…. different on her. she looked at the mirror and start to fluff her hair, as it was now puffy from the humid bath. she didn’t mind. she liked it anyway. she smiled at her reflection. she could still see herself, but… the bruises, the busted lip, the veins. she could see the corner of her eye bleed. was she hurting though? no, but she knew she was gonna heal the same rate of as the average human, just a tiny bit faster, but never the same rate as the average vampire. she was starting to feel intense throbbing in the head. she whimpered.

“you’re done?” peter asked, his low baritone voice booming through the hall. lysandra just stood there, looking at herself, and peter fully came, she was standing right in front of him, frozen. **big eyes**. again. “you know you don’t have to be scared of me, kid.” peter said, crossing his arms. he walked inside, moving past the girl and picking up her dirty clothes. going back to the front, he turned to her and opened his mouth. only to be silent.

she looked scarred, like a soldier after a humongous battle. her eyes are wide and big, but feline. her face was chubby but had a defined jawline. her eyes were blue, with tints of green. her lips were pink, but were very cracked and showing signs of dehydration. her scent was very strong, too. she looked so youthful but had stories to tell. was she even a child anyway, or really just an old vampire turned young? 

“stay here.” peter then went to the kitchen and grabbed an ice pack, along with opening the cabinet and grabbing a healing ointment. he went back to the restroom and crouched down to _lysandra’s_ level. she may be half-vamp, but she’s only half. she can’t do much, when it comes to healing. without saying much, he gave her the ice pack, while applying small does of ointment onto her scars and bruises, rubbing it in until it camouflaged with her skin tone. _lysandra_ applied the ice pack onto her forehead, as she was feeling much pain there. 

peter rubbed her shoulders and gave her a small grin, before backing away. fuck. he has a lot to think about. _lysandra_ felt a bit calm, if not – tired, as she started to yawn. appropriate timing. “follow me.” he said, walking out the bathroom. the lights turned off and _lysandra_ walked out, following him into his room. 

the lights turned on and peter’s room was no different or no similar. it was… something. it was like a big box, green-white mixture shade that plastered the walls, shiny wooden floor, a tv, a vanity, a closet, and of course, his bed. _lysandra_ looked around and then at his vanity set, seeing photos and artifacts. while peter put the dirty clothes in the basket, _lysandra_ picked up a vintage picture of him and five other women. they looked so young, but clearly, peter was the youngest looking of them all. 

“those are my sisters,” peter blurted, interrupting the peace. he grabbed the photo from her small hands, “annette, cathy, pamela, barbara, and patricia.” he placed the photo back down on his set and sighed, looking back at the young girl. _lysandra_ was sitting on the edge of the bed, king sized but extremely white. she was looking up and around, trying to adjust with the setting, holding the ice pack as she silently bit her nail. although she couldn’t speak, there was just something about her that was just catching his attention. _**fully**_. 

grabbing his own set of nightclothes, peter left the room and started walking to the bathroom, but looked back to see _lysandra_ lying down, possibly asleep. going in, he turned on the shower faucet, undress, and just went inside. he made sure the doors were closed _shut_. midway through his shower, soaked with intense wetness from the water running, peter slicked his long hair back and looked down. the water was cold, but he had a lot of thinking to do. he could care less about warmth at this moment.

he caught a child, realized she’s a vampire ( _half_ ), took her in his home, barely knows anything about her but the name _lysandra_ ( _and she doesn’t even speak_ ), and he’s not even sure if she’s in danger… he doesn’t know what to do with her. now, he’s thinking. should he turn her into the police? keep her, as they are the only possible vampires in this world? peter steele keeping a child… _**weirdo**_. and he’s slowly, but progressively becoming soft, if that makes things worst. but he has always been soft, especially towards women, his family, and his cats.

it’s just that he don’t show it. literally just to uphold his image. and that’s _**sad**_. 

peter’s brows furrowed, his palm on the shower wall, his body leaning forward as there was no sound other than the water. his thoughts were descending to madness just thinking of all the things that could happen. rubbing and squeezing his glabella, he turned off the water and went out, drying himself off and changing to his night clothes. he could still see his reflection, but he was just slowly fading away, day by day. night by night. 

back in his room, _lysandra_ was asleep. her face was flushed with red, blushes forming. natural human blood in her body. that formed even more thoughts for peter. she could be human and was just wasting his time, but the scent… and the door incident in the bathroom. what was she really then? peter shook his head and got in bed beside her, trying to not let the thoughts interfere with his sleep as he knew they could keep him up for hours and needed 8 hours of sleep, anyway. 

not really. 

he can go many hours without sleep and tiredness. he just gets bored easily and sleeping just seems to be the better option, sometimes. and he didn’t want _lysandra_ to be alone. there was a huge gap between them and there was a feeling of discomfort. he shut his eyes and put the blanket over him.

_silence_.

_silence_.

_birds chirping and the wind flowing_. 

his thoughts vanished and he felt… less tense. 

“ _goodnight_.”

that was not his voice. 


	2. nobody's gonna miss you anyway.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new girl(s) and hardware. what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: shrivinglust. | y'all, this chapter was a blast to write. it was supposed to be longer, but... ;)

snow still falling. 

even with his eyes closed, peter can feel the light shining on him through his lids. being a vampire, he thought light would kill him, like in the books and movies, but no. it would just give him intense migraines and weird pangs. even worse when he doesn’t get light for a long period of time. turning to the other side, he opened his eyes and slowly, but steadily got out of the bed.

he felt… stiff. tense. like something was missing. like  _ someone _ was missing. his eyes shifted around the room and then back to the bed.  _ lysandra _ . she wasn’t in the bed. he walked to the living room and didn’t find her, just the cats either napping or crawling around. the tv was off. he rushed to the kitchen, only to find no one. peter rarely panicked, but now was a good time to. he rushed to the bathroom, flicked on the light, and no one. she wasn’t there.

should he yell out her name? wait? there were so many questions in his mind. calmly, he went back to the front and opened the door, going outside. it was still snowing, but the sky looked extremely light. the sun was nowhere to be found. peter looked around but stopped scanning the area as he heard a ‘ _ meow! _ ’. turning to his left, he noticed weena crawling around, stopping to stretch at one point. following her, there appeared  _ lysandra _ . peter took a deep breath of relief. “thought you were missing.” he said. all  _ lysandra _ could do was just stare with a blank face.  **_typical_ ** . 

peter opened the door and stepped a foot inside, but turned around, still holding the door handle. “staying in or out?” he asked. not like she was gonna answer anyway. he turned and began to shut the door, only to hear a  _ BANG! _ on the door panel. peter quickly turned and noticed a snowball, which was thrown, melting and going down and then back at  _ lysandra _ , who was making another snowball while weena nuzzled around her. “tsk.” peter sighed, shaking his head and then going back in. 

out it is.

in the kitchen, he was drinking a caramel protein shake. chocolate was better, but caramel could be dealt with. lying back on the counter, he was thinking. it was really about  _ lysandra _ . who was she, really? he knew that she was a vampire, a half one, and she was nearly killed by teenage hunters. but, where did she come from?

where are her parents? where is she from? is  _ lysandra _ really her name? who is she hiding from? why is she hiding? why are there even teenage hunters? so many questions, so little time. wait… time is endless. he has enough,  _ probably _ . the door opened and he quickly turned, seeing  _ lysandra _ , who was carrying weena with one hand, come in and slowly close the door. the cat leaped out of her hand, slowly crawling towards the couch and jumping onto it. "hey." peter waved, catching her attention.

she flinched and turned to him, slowly. her eyes weren't big, but her face looked frozen. "are… are you hungry?" peter asked. he put down the shake but was still back against the corner. she shook her head, refusing. surprisingly, she wasn't cold. she was only wearing the shirt peter gave her. maybe half vampires don't feel sensitive to the cold, unlike normal humans? "alright, well," peter got off of the counter and started walking towards  _ lysandra _ , "if you ever need anything…" he paused. 

he went to the couch and turned on the tv, propping weena on his lap, who was purring and lying down.  _ lysandra  _ looked around, analyzing the room. it was clean, a little rusty in some parts, but looked so cozy. a home that was meant for winter. it looked so homey, but so closed up together. she slowly walked to the other side of the couch and sat next to peter, her legs hunched up to her chest. there was nothing but white noise coming from the tv. the two were watching another episode of  _ The Andy Griffith Show _ , but clearly wasn’t connecting. peter was too busy looking at  _ lysandra _ . 

she looked too innocent. not menacing at all. her eyes were very doe-like, her nose was so pointy and upturned, with a button tip, and she looked so fragile overall. her fingers were so slender, but stubby, as her entire hands were placed on the couch. she seemed a little attached to the tv, not saying anything. “do you know where you’re from,  _ lysandra _ ?” peter asked.  _ lysandra _ turned her head to him, but not say a single word.  **_silence_ ** . can she not talk? peter was becoming impatient but tried to not show any obvious signs. he silently tapped his foot and quirked a brow.

“well, since you’re not gonna answer me,” he grabbed the television remote and pressed the ‘power’ button, turning the tv off, “no more tv-”

“ _ no _ .”

peter quickly turned his neck to her. did she just…  **_speak_ ** ? her voice sounded like the voice he heard last night, saying ‘ _ goodnight _ ’, but even quieter. she frowned, her eyes pleading at him. “no?” peter asked. she shook her head and pointed at the remote. peter hid the remote from her, which she caught but couldn’t fight over on. peter leaned closer to her and pointed at her. “tell me where you came from and you’ll have the tv again.” peter bargained. 

no answer, again.

peter sighed and stood up, walking away with the remote in his hand. he was just wasting his time—  _ click!  _ ‘ _ if there's anything that upsets me, it's having people say i'm sensitive _ .’ barney quoted, from the show. peter turned around, eyes wide, as  _ lysandra _ was looking at the tv, which was buzzing with black & white and static noise. peter didn’t press the ‘ON’ button from the remote and the button that was molded onto the tv was broken, so  **_how_ ** ? trying not to make himself obvious beyond her sight, peter pressed the remote button to turn it off, but it wouldn’t. in fact, the static noise worsens and  _ lysandra _ ’s brows furrowed. 

wait.

wait.

the bathroom incident. when he tried closing the door, but it wouldn’t. it couldn’t. the knob wouldn’t even turn, so it stayed open. trying to connect the dots, all peter could do was look. a mundane person would’ve thought it was a ghost, but such things never happened before  _ lysandra _ came. for a vampire, peter thought it was quite, for a better word,  **_unamusing_ ** that he was still experiencing such a ‘mundane’ lifestyle. he didn’t expect anything extremely bizarre to come about, but the whole ‘ _ sunlight-burns-you _ ’ and the ‘ _ garlic-repels-you _ ’ thing was a giant myth. if anything, he would get nothing to little migraines here and there, depending on the light, and garlic still tastes the same. just the smell has heightened a bit. he has yet to try the religious weapons, holy water & a stake, but that would be quite fun.

and he doesn’t have any special powers, either.

his speed is faster than the other humans, along with his strength & stamina just overall better than the average human, but he can’t read minds or move things with his mind. his appearance didn’t change either. his skin is still white, body temperature dropped a little (but not drastically), his teeth are the same, if not a little sharper… he can still see his reflection, but he was slowly fading away day by day. he’s still…  **_peter_ ** . but, this  _ thing _ ,  _ lysandra _ , she’s a whole other girl. she is the exact opposite of peter. walking straight to her, he crouched down to her level, looking at her and then the tv. “did you do this?” peter asked. he was half expecting, half not expecting an answer.

and all  _ lysandra _ could do was slowly turn her head to him and the tv blared a loud, static noise before it turned off completely.

—

the rest of the gap between morning and afternoon,  _ noon _ , went okay. peter decided to do some chores – washing dishes, cleaning the cats' litterbox and feeding them, washing clothes, while  _ lysandra _ just watched him. she looked quite amused like she had never seen someone do chores in her entire life.  **_how strange_ ** . 

going to the back of the cabin with  _ lysandra _ following him, peter opened the doors of his cabinet. inside was all the materials of hardware, ranging from tools to wiring, and peter could tell he was missing something. scrambling around the cabinet, he snarled as he was missing nails & screws, two of the most basic, but important tools of hardware and he was lacking them both. what the hell was he making then?

he hasn't been going to his local hardware store lately, so today was the appropriate time to go.  _ lysandra _ leaned her head to the side, quite curious, and then backed away when peter took a step back. hands on his hips, peter looked at her. he was going to the store, but should she come with him or stay in the house? “put on your shoes.” he said, before going back to the front.  _ lysandra _ just stood there, still with that blank expression on her face.

the store wasn’t far. not at all. just a couple of blocks away… if driving. a 2 minute walk to a 2 minute drive. ever since he moved out of his mother’s apartment, everything close to peter felt so far. stepping outside, he stood on the creaky, wooden porch as he waited for  _ lysandra _ . she had no other clothing, but that pink shirt and those dirty, punk style clothing she wore yesterday when he first found her. what else could she be doing? brushing hair, putting on pads in ‘certain’ areas, cosmetics and perfume everywhere…. 

he stifled a tiny chuckle at one thought, though. girls were interesting, doing small changes that could partake a big change in their overall appearance. he remembered when cathy had braces, her teeth looked horrible and every night, she would groan and moan about gum pain and even had occasional bleeding, but when the day came to take them off, she looked different. her jawline was more pronounced, her teeth were less crooked, her overbite was nonexistent, and while there were no boys to compliment her looks, peter was there, teasing her relentlessly.

good times.

the door creaked open and  _ lysandra _ appeared. her hair was in a slick ponytail, even her bangs pulled back. the bottom half of the pink shirt was disproportionately cut, giving out a crop top and her stomach showing. wearing her black jeans again, even though they looked scratched up and covered with dirt ( _ peter literally forgot she had other clothing _ ) and was also wearing her purple jacket. she looked different. quite tacky, though. 

peter gave her a little smile.  _ lysandra _ closed the door and stood beside him, her arms behind her, hands holding each other, as she looked around. she was quite observant. the sky was still white, the light shining even though the sun was nowhere to be seen. as she kept looking up, peter stepped down the porch and started walking to his destination, hands in pockets. the snow felt heavier, as he had to drag his feet to go forward and the crunching intensified. it sounded so empty, though.

_ someone _ should be following him.

pausing, he turned around. even though the cabin was half a mile from his distance, he could still see  _ lysandra _ like she was directly in front of him. she wasn't observing the sky or whatever was above her though. she was looking straight at him, still like a statue with no expression either. the wind was howling, intensifying as the transparent direction went left. peter was still as well, but now he was reconsidering. "you're just gonna stand there?" he yelled.

though she did little in his presence, the girl was rather unpredictable. she could go back in the house, walk with him, or do whatever insanity with her mind. those were the only three options she could do anyway. peter waited patiently, his deep green eyes staring into her shallow blue ones. "so, you're just gonna stand there and freeze? have fun." he said, before turning his back on her and continuing to walk. he gave out an inaudible chuckle, even though the joke was quite insensitive to a "young" girl. his steps were slow though, as he was certain that she would do something out of spite.

_ crunch. crunch. crunch. _

the steps of the snow went faster and soon,  _ lysandra _ was right next to him. peter looked at her and noticed how small she was, literally stopping right at his torso, and her face. her face was less bruised, but her brows were furrowed, her nose was scrunched, her lips were pursed, and her cheeks were red too, like she was fuming. he wanted to laugh because she was upset. upset that he was going to 'leave' her. 

god, he wanted to tease her right now.

—

the walk to the store was surprisingly fast. 'surprisingly' as in, using your vampire speed, while trying to mimic mundane walking, until you exit the woods. the city was busy as always, cars honking, lights everywhere, the billboard showing advertisements of worthless, but interesting products, and people walking around every direction. peter tried walking normally, despite just running faster than the average human. hands in his pockets, hair in a ponytail, and  _ lysandra _ trying to catch up. he stopped and backed up against a wall, waiting for her. 

her face was a little red, probably because of the blood rushing through her body. there was no way she could still be 'mad' at him. as she caught up, peter resumed walking alongside. a few twists and turns and there she was. ' _gord_ _ ie's hardware store _ ', the name of the best there is. the store was quite small looking from the outside, with windows plastered with clearance and upcoming product ads, but if one looked close enough, the store looked quite big…and white… only 5 people were inside. peter opened the door, letting  _ lysandra _ walk inside first. 

the bell on top jingled and a man who was wiping a snow globe, turned his head. "well, hey there, peter!" he smiled. his eyes were a little droopy, one of his infamous trademarks, but they were curving like the crescent moon. peter gave him a smile and waved at him.  _ lysandra  _ looked around and noticed the materials in certain shelves, boxes, scattered around on the floor, too. 

the cashier put down the globe and still had that jolly smile on his face. "what are you looking for, pete? the usual?" he asked. "yeah. well, just nails and screws." peter nodded. nails, screws, and  _ maybe _ … an exotic saw. going to the section, he glanced around. there were golden nails, silver nails, 12 inch nails, 9 inch nails… without hesitation, peter grabbed 2 packs of the silver 9 inch nails and strolled down to get some screws.

looking, he found the last pack of screws. there were many packs, but the ones he was looking for – wood screws, were in lack. hardly anyone came here and wood screws were hardly sold out, so who took nearly all of them? unless the snow was  _ that _ bad. "you're gonna take that?" a feminine voice asked. peter turned to the voice's direction and there was a slender woman, who looked clearly interested. she had brown skin, round glasses covering her brown eyes, wavy, black hair, and dressed so modestly head to toe. peter couldn't answer. 

she had a patient look on her face, but was eager for an answer. "no…" peter said, shaking his head. her left brow quirked, and there was even a scar on it. “you’re sure?” she questioned, her hand on her hip. “yeah. unless, you wanna be fair and split?” peter asked, chuckling. she raised her left brow and gave out a little chuckle, too. “well, i’d be damned.” she shrugged, before grabbing the pack. she eyed at what peter was holding, before looking right at him. 

“that’s all you gonna buy?” 

“no.” peter responded, without any hesitation. that exotic saw could wait.

walking to the front, peter and the woman put the items on the checkout lane. “you pay for your stuff and i pay for….  _ mine _ .” the woman whispered. “that’s all for today, peter?” the cashier asked. peter nodded and took out his cash as he saw the customer display glowing green -- $3.45. peter gave the cash to the man, received his change of $0.28, and grabbed his product. he waited for the woman, who quickly paid for ‘her’ item, before quickly going to him. he noticed there was change leftover, unless she asked the cashier to keep it.

she opened the small, clear, plastic package of screws. 

“take as many as you need.” 

peter took half of what was in the package and shoved it in his jeans pocket. “thanks…” he drifted, unsure of the woman’s name. “ _ lucinda _ .” she smiled. “lucinda,” he repeated, giving out a small smile, “pretty name for a pretty woman.” lucinda rolled her eyes and gave out a sarcastic look. “pfffft…. oh,  _ please _ . i would do  **_anything_ ** to switch this… demon of a name. like, lilith! ooh, i like lilith… uh, what’s your name, anyway?” she asked. peter was a little astonished. for a modestly dressed woman, who was nowhere dressing like a goth or a satanic cult, but rather close to a nun, she didn’t act like one.

but, then again, how many people actually live up to their image?

“peter.” he answered. “sweet. well,” she sighed, “got to get going, peter. it was nice sharing with you. bye.” she winked at him and smiled, before walking past him. peter didn’t even turn to watch her leave. all he could hear was the bell ringing and the door opening… then, closing. peter was so used to strange things happening in his life, especially as a vampire, but today was just out of the loop.

“hey, petes.” the cashier interrupted. “yeah?” peter walked up to him. “wasn’t there a little girl that came in with you?” he asked.  _ shit _ . peter looked left and right.  _ lysandra _ was nowhere to be seen. without a word, he left the cashier’s sight and went through each section of the store. no little girl found. he couldn’t panic, in fact -- panicking wasn’t even the right feeling. he wasn’t even worried or anxious, but…  _ concerned _ . although  _ lysandra  _ was a (half) vampire that could do shit with her mind, she was still a little girl in appearance and possibly, through age.

and peter found himself rushing through the door. the damn bell jingling again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger! where is lysandra? also, lys' name is italicized because she is so special. okay, okay, that's all. comment, leave kudos, and follow me on tumblr (shrivinglust). i hoped y'all enjoy!


	3. where have you gone today.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lost. lost again. because that's all she's good at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: shrivinglust | let's read!!!

as **_the man_ ** walked to the nails section, lysandra went to the back of the store and exit through the back door. she was introduced to cars zooming past her, back and forth, streetlights everywhere, snow (of course), people walking, and other stores here and there. why did she leave, anyway? it was a weird urge in her. all the man was gonna do was get some nails, but lysandra felt like she had to leave. she could’ve waited, but no. she could’ve gone back inside, but **_no_ **.

she took a big step forward, before walking across the street, not even focusing on the cars going past her (and could possibly hit her, if she stumbled). **_food_**. that was the first thought that came to mind. she could barely speak english, but she knew enough ‘simple’ words that could help her enough. now on the other side of the street, there were so many signs and buildings next to each other.

there was a supermarket, a pizza place, tax service… thing, and so much more along the trail. she walked straight to the supermarket, the auto doors opening once she was close to the sensor. she flinched. that was something new. slowly stepping inside, the place was huge and there were too many things at once. baskets, carts, way too many people, packages of water bottles stacked on top of each other, and blaring soft music filling the entire store. she covered her ears, though. as soft as it sounds, it sounded so _harsh_ to her.

where to go… where to go… her feet were walking, but her whole body felt numb. she was overloaded by her surroundings. and what wasn’t helping was that some people were looking at her. _god_ , she **hates** being looked at. she attempted to ignore them and walked into an aisle of very colorful packages. she was close to one and grabbed it, seeing the name ‘ **SOUR PATCH KIDS** ’. she went down the aisle and grabbed more little packages of snacks she never tried: 

‘ **POP TARTS: BROWN SUGAR CINNAMON'** , ‘ **AIRHEADS** ’, and much more than her small hands could handle.

she eyed an empty cartwheel basket and rushed to it, throwing the items in. her small hands grabbing the handle and pushing forward. “ ** _hey, that’s my basket!_ ** ” a rough, masculine voice yelled. lysandra didn’t even turn to see who was talking towards her direction but rushed to the very back of the store — the dairy section. there was regular milk, skim milk, reduced & low-fat milk, chocolate milk, strawberry, _every_ milk, cheese, ice cream, eggs, and yogurt. she grabbed a large tub of strawberry yogurt, cookie dough ice cream, chocolate milk, and a package of a dozen fudge popsicles inside and put them in the cart.

some people were still eyeing, even people around her age. she gets it, though. she’s small, looks defenseless, has no adult by her side, and was dressed very… abnormally. she left all of her things at david’s house, but his friends want to kill her. they probably ravaged her belongings and burned them. “hey, little girl.” lysandra turned and was confronted by an older man, who looked nothing like **_the man_ ** or any man, really. he was short, quite stubby, wearing a coral, tailored shirt, and khaki pants. he was balding too, but that didn’t bother her, though.

“where’s your parents?” he asked, his hands in his pocket. she didn’t answer, her breath hitching and her nose wrinkling ( _which she tried to be subtle with_ ). he smelt bad, too. no, not by his breath, but his **_blood_**. did humans smell that bad? “mommy? daddy?” he asked. he sounded awkward and of course, no answer. “you can talk, can y- oh waaaaaiiiiit… don’t talk to strangers, huh?” he laughed. don’t talk to strangers? _huh_? do parents teach their kids that? she looked visibly confused. “you understand english?” lysandra still didn’t answer him and was now thinking of leaving. she had enough already. the man then grabbed her arm and she gasped, her other arm still attached to the cart handle. she tried to yank away, but he kept pulling her. should she scream? bite him? run away?

she grunted as he kept pulling her arm. “hey, leave that kid alone!” a woman yelled. the man turned to the woman, who looked visibly upset and concerned and loosen his grip on lysandra. the girl grabbed the cart without hesitation and exited out of the supermarket backdoor. outside, things were still the same. but, there was grass and further down, the woods. the road was on the left side, but lysandra didn’t want to be seen. besides, she could go back to the house… if his house is down there.

strolling down the deep, green path, which was covered with snow, lysandra’s legs were getting tired and stopped as soon as she entered the woods. she grabbed the sour patch package and sat down, opening it and eating whatever she can. she puckered her lips, as it was too sour and sweet at the same time, but her taste buds were starting to like it as she continued. looking up at the sky, it was obviously afternoon. the sun blaring yellow and the sky showing off its mixture of orange, red, and violet. **_the man who saved her_ **. no, she doesn’t know his name. he never told her. but, where is he now? 

getting a package of nails and screws don’t take that long, unless… he forgot about her. now her mind was spiraling. he couldn’t forget about her. they just met and he was taking care of her… hours have passed. maybe he went back to the house with those cats, maybe he’s looking for her, and all lysandra could do was still eat those sour gummies and look at the sky. all she could hope for was that she wasn’t forgotten.

because she hated that.

and it made her feel useless.

and that she should’ve never moved from bulgaria to the united states.

fuck bulgaria, anyway. maybe she's overthinking. lysandra shook her head and went back to pushing the cart, moving forward to wherever she was trying to go (hint: nowhere). she went through a bridge, to another part of the woods, another neighborhood (it looked narrow & rundown for a neighborhood), and then… the woods again. the setting looked familiar, but there was no cabin anywhere and her legs were tired, stumbling, and just waiting for a pause, so… she stopped and literally dropped to the ground. 

her head was empty, literally no thoughts but she felt cold enough to sit up and held herself close. shivering, she looked around and noticed she was alone, with a big basket filled with junk. she doesn’t even recognize this side of new york! lysandra rolled her eyes and smacked her teeth, making a ‘mmcht’ sound, as she hated being lost.

especially for no reason.

-I-

if this were the right situation to go full panic mode, right now would be it. peter couldn’t just embarrass himself and rush, bump into people just to find a child he doesn’t even know. it wasn’t his fault that she wouldn’t speak to him. should he go back home? go to the police station? does _lysandra_ even live in the united states? does lysandra even know where the house is? now there were too many questions in his mind, and he was frozen. all he just knows was that her name is _lysandra_ , she has shaggy brown hair, blue eyes, looked like a tiny gremlin, pale (and sickly) skin, and wore tacky clothing.

that didn’t even sound like enough information. that could be _anybody_ in this damn state.

he found himself rushing back to the cabin, ignoring but also cautiously watching anybody coming towards his way. all the way back to the woods, _lysandra_ was nowhere to be found. the cats weren’t even inside. did he even lock the door? catching his steps, he slowly walked up the porch and opened the door with ease ( _so, it wasn’t locked…_ ), and glanced around. the lights were still off, the cats were either sleeping or strolling around, and _lysandra_ was nowhere to be seen. peter closed the door and walked to the kitchen, only to find nowhere there. he went to his bedroom and she wasn’t in there, not looking around or even sleeping. the bathroom? not there. he even went to the back, where all the storage was, going through the closet, looking through the windows, and no _lysandra_.

a sign. god, he needed a sign. did she get lost? did she wanted to avoid him? run away? _used_ him? how can a child use an adult, anyway? shaking his head, he left the cabin again and rushed back to the hardware store, only to find a police car in front of the supermarket entrance. a policeman was talking to a woman, who looked stubby and visibly concerned and a man, who was also stubby and looked like a greedy predator. peter casually walked to the area, but of course, he gained attention. he wasn’t surprised, though, and that wasn’t gonna stop him. “sir, have you seen a little girl? blue eyes, brown hair in a ponytail-“

“yes! is that your daughter?” the woman piped. she sounded excited, but also concerned. was _lysandra_ involved in this? the stubby man looked quite guilty. “no… what happened?” peter asked. the two suspects started to stammer, but the police silenced them. “a little girl, with no parents, was holding the cart in the diary aisle. the man found her and tried to drag her with him, because she was ‘lost’, but the woman stopped him, and the girl ran away through the back door with the cart.” the officer said. peter crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. even he sounded more professional than the cop. “huh. well,” peter turned his head to the woman, “thank you for saving her.” he chuckled. he glanced at the stubby man with a poker face, before uncrossing his arms and walking away without a final word.

as he turned, peter was hit with a scent. a strong one, to be exact. it didn’t smell like anyone he was close with, but _different_ . he started walking straight and turned right, before reaching to his destination. a rundown neighborhood. did he really walk that far? peter has been to this side of new york before but didn’t really ‘enter’ it. he might’ve grown up in the slums, but **_this_ **wasn’t his type of ‘hood’. he heard mechanics and started walking to the sound, only to find a body underneath a car, while a girl- lucinda!... lucinda was crouching down, holding the screws while the person was doing whatever they can. “…lucinda!” peter interrupted. the girl turned and pushed up her glasses, smiling as she noticed peter. “peter. hey.” she smiled, putting the screws on the ground.

peter walked up to her, his hands in his pockets. “you’re busy at the moment?” he asked. lucinda’s energetic look turned into concerned. she turned her head back to the person under the vehicle. “ _papa! ou toujou vle m 'kenbe vis yo?_ ” “ _non, non. mwen jwenn li!_ ” he answered. he was struggling a little. peter quirked a brow. ‘ _what language is that_ ?’ he thought. “creole, idiot.” lucinda remarked. she gave out a little chuckle. how the- **nevermind** . “you mind we go somewhere a little private?” peter asked. lucinda started walking and without hesitation, he started to follow. the two stopped at the backyard of lucinda’s home, where everything was so green and veiny, with a lot of plants resembling a garden _(if that was her intention, of course_ ).

“what’s up?” lucinda questioned.

“have you seen a little girl?”

“there’s little girls everywhere. be more specific.”

“brown hair in a ponytail, pale skin, blue eyes, very upturned nose, black jeans and a pink crop top that used to be mine.” he shrugged.

“holding a cart?”

“yup.”

lucinda nodded. “that’s your child- peter, you have a child?” she asked, a little surprised. peter cringed at that thought. “n-no. i just have to find- the police are looking for her.” he stammered. he was lost for words. “yeeeahhh, well… she was strolling straight down the street to who know what? i wasn’t really paying attention. because, y’know, that’s not my kid.” she shrugged. “well, can you help me find her?” peter asked. usually, he does such situations alone, but that ‘ _kid_ ’ could be doing god knows what and… he forgot what his last thought is.

“sure.” lucinda shrugged.

the duo started walking past the house, past the car, and made a left. “do you think your dad would wonder where you are?” peter asked. “i hope not. he’s a nutjob. sometimes, he forgets i exist and i take that to my advantage.” lucinda chuckled, before shrugging. peter couldn’t help but chuckle too. “sounds like alzheimers.” he shrugged. the sky was getting darker, turning to violet. “i wouldn’t be surprised if he comes the next day, look at me dead in the eye, and be like ‘ _lucinda WHO_?’” she snarked.

the two stopped as they were fronted by a bunch of tall evergreen trees. “either she could be in the woods… ooooorrrrrr….” she looked to the left, “the other neighborhood.” peter tilted his head as he looked at the trees. so much snow. “i live in the woods, but not this side. she probably thinks my…”, peter trailed as lucinda started to walk past him, “…cabin is over there.” he started walking with her, if not, _following_ her. the two started to shout her name, even walking around in different paths, but no signs. how quiet could this girl be?

peter started to sniff as a far scent started to irritate his nose. fire. he smelt **fire** . he turned his head to the left. “hey, come with me. i smell something.” he signaled, waving his hand. lucinda, who was in the opposite side, caught up with him and the two started to walk until they saw a bright orange beam, waving around on the ground. “who the hell lighting fires at this time of night?” lucinda questioned. peter shushed her and they crept further. “ _lysandra_ !” peter yelled, with his bass voice booming. a head turned and even though it was dark, the person’s eyes was bright blue enough to be seen. that was _lysandra_ alright.

the duo started to rush further and stopped as they were close enough. the two looked at the small fire, which was set on a pile of logs, the basket that was right next to the petite girl, and of course the petite girl herself, sitting criss-cross while staring at them ( _without blanking_ , _too_ !) dead in the eye, _lysandra_. there was blood splattered on the side of her face, but nothing graphic around the scene. peter looked down at her, seeing a pile of clothing that she never worn, or he seen before.

**_what the fuck-_ **

however, lucinda stopped the silence. “you’re _lysandra_ , right?” she asked. _lysandra_ nodded, without blinking at all. lucinda crouched down to her height and gave a little smile. “lucinda.” she smiled, introducing herself. _lysandra_ looked a little frightened, her palms on the cold ground, arms standing straight as she was extending herself, nearly stretching. she was quivering a little, too. lucinda reached out her arm, pushing back a strand of the young girl ( _if she’s even young_ ) hair. “sweetheart, you don’t have to be afraid of me or,” she glanced back at peter, which _lys_ did the same, and then looked back at each other, “pete.”

 _lysandra_ was still scared, though. her breathing paced up a little. peter was still standing there, hands in his pockets, as he closely at the girl. did she not trust him anymore? did these hours of abandonment caused her to go insane, considering the blood on her face? peter couldn’t even be mad, though, as he suffered the same. both could tell that _lysandra_ didn’t even feel or look comfortable, obviously, as well. lucinda stood up and went to peter, leaning towards him. “…can she talk…?” she whispered. “at this point, i don’t have an answer.” peter shrugged. fair enough.

lucinda frowned and then crouched down to _lysandra_ again. “jeez… can you talk, sweetheart?” she asked, giving out a soft smile. ‘ _can she blink_?’ she thought. the young girl blinked once and lucinda pursed her lips, her eyes going to the side. well, she can blink but, can’t talk. “peter,” she hissed in a quiet tone, “do something!” peter crouched down to her level and sighed, looking straight at the girl. “let’s go back home.” he said, before blowing out the fire.

now it’s completely dark.

the clothing in the basket and _lysandra_ holding the handle, while lucinda was on her left and peter was on her right. “hey,” lucinda looked at peter, “how did you find me?” she asked. peter was looking down, his hands behind his back, holding each other slender fingers. he couldn’t just tell her. “…gut instinct. i needed someone to help me. there was a police scene across the store and she,” he glanced at _lysandra_ with a harsh vibe before looking back down at the ground, “was involved.” lucinda chuckled before giving out a contagious laugh. peter couldn’t help but laugh, too. “ooooooh,” lucinda imitated, “she in troouuubleee! oh please. i had my fair shares, too. and besides, i think the bigger problem is that there’s blood on her face and that she’s hearing this.”

the two stopped at lucinda’s home. “want me to take you guys home? or is your home close?” she asked. peter was about to open his mouth, but left it shut as he had to think. home was pretty far from this region and while it was close if the two did ‘ _walk_ ’, he just didn’t feel like it. he looked down at _lysandra_ , who had no expression. “you can take us.” he shrugged. lucinda grabbed her keys and went to a bright turquoise _1962 Ford F100_ , which peter was surprised that she (or anybody, really) has, unlocking it. she got in the car, sitting on the edge of the seat, and eyed at peter. “get in. put all of _lys_ ’ stuff in the back and just leave the cart here.” she yelled.

peter dumped all the items and food in the trunk of the vehicle and went to his side. _lysandra_ jumped in the trunk, lying her head on the back window. peter shut the door as he looked back, seeing _lysandra_ sitting there. “ready? _lys_ in the back?” lucinda asked. peter nodded and buckled his seatbelt ( _like he needs it anyway…_ ). lucinda started the truck and backed out of the driveway, travelling to wherever peter’s cabin was at, and all _lysandra_ could do was look at the black scenery in front of her… and dozen of car lights, people walking around, and hearing continuous shouts, yells, beeps and honks.

all surrounding her.

all overloading her.

-I-

as they arrived at their destination, peter quickly got out of the car and went to the back, seeing _lysandra_ passed out. peter quickly grabbed her and carried her, rushing inside the house. lucinda got out of the car and was confused, before going to the back and seeing all the groceries still in. she could’ve bring the cart with her, but it was too late now. she went inside the house and was met with a passed out lysandra on the couch, with peter sitting next to her. he stroked her hair and obviously, he just didn’t know what to do.

“what happened?” lucinda asked. “how am i supposed to know? seem like she passed out.” peter shrugged. he sounded upset, too. “i’m not a paramedic, but she’s still breathing, and her cheeks are red. she must’ve been very anxious and stressed, considering that the police made her a suspect and she looked at us like we wanted to murder her. i don’t know what the hell _exactly_ happened, but i’m guessing her mind is fucked up or whatever. like a trigger. it’s called vasovagal syncope.” she stated. although it was just a mere theory, it could be true. who knows? peter gave out a simple nod, as the woman obviously knows more than him.

small, blue eyes slowly started to open and _lysandra_ gained consciousness, as she sat up. she coughed and did a little woozy motion, as her mind was spinning. lucinda held her in place, holding her by the shoulders firmly and even gave her a little squeeze. peter stood up in front of the girls and sternly looked at _lysandra_ . “okay, tell me what’s going on.” he bellowed. the girl looked at him with wide eyes (her sclera looked so veiny…), still in silence. she definitely looked afraid. “what is your name, dammit?! is your name even _lysandra_? what are you? where are you from? can you even talk? why won’t you answer me!” peter fumed. he was so upset. and the worst part was…

he doesn’t even know _why_ he’s upset.

“peter, peter! stop.” lucinda interrupted. peter looked at her, sharp sighted, without a word. “you’re scaring her and you’re wondering why she’s not answering you.” she added. and she was right. lucinda let go of _lysandra’s_ shoulders and was in front of her, grabbing her hand and then closing her eyes. _lysandra_ looked at her, confused.

**_dark. a little boy with short hair running away through a rundown village’s alleyway, carrying a bag full of items. his features looked closely to lysandra’s—blue eyes, pale skin, lithe figure, brown hair, soft, round babyface, but sharp jawline… he looked scared. scared for his entire life. he kept on running though, not looking back as there were suddenly people chasing him. suddenly, he’s stuck. in the middle of claustrophobic nowhere. the bad guys surrounding him, some holding stakes, the others holding crosses and holy water, and some going far to hiding knives and guns. no fear and his expression became tense, scratching the neck of one and crushing the neck of the other without even touching them. he handled the rest by clawing them apart, ripping whatever organs they had, and then taking their weapons, putting them in his bag and then running away._ **

****

**_a white bedroom. the long hair boy… no,_ ** **_girl_ ** **_. though half nude, only wearing bootcut, low rise jeans, she looked at herself in the mirror. she looked so beautiful and quite happy. why? who knows. she cupped her blooming chest, before massaging down to her tummy and then finally rubbing & crossing her arms. she looked new. she felt new. she was _ ** **_lysandra_ ** **_. “_ ** **_lysandra_ ** **_! you’re ready?” a masculine, but pitchy voice yelled. she quickly put on her shirt, before pulling out a photo of her and a woman behind her, holding her and the two just smiling. she looked at the back, with text printed in lipstick red and all capital letters:_ **

**_‘МОЯТ ЛЮБИМ ЛИЗАНДРА_ **

**_БЪДЕТЕ КАКВО ИСКАТЕ ДА БЪДЕТЕ. ДРУГО СЪМ СТАНА, МОЯТА ДУША ЩЕ БЪДЕ ОТ ВАШАТА СТРАНА. ВИЕ СТЕ СВОЯТ ДУХ И МОЖЕТЕ ДУХАТА ВИ ВЕЧЕ ДО ЛИБЕРАЦИЯ И КАКВО Е ПРАВО. КОГАТО БИХТЕ РОЖДЕНИ ПО толкова много различни начини, КАТО ВАМПИРДЖИЯ, НЕГОВИЯТ СЕКС, ИМЕТО НА ПОРЪЧКАТА ИЛИ КАКВОТО Е. САДЛИЧНО, МНОГО ХОРА ГЛЕДАТА ГЛЕДА ВИ КАТО "ТОВА", НО ГЛЕДАМ ВИ КАТО "ТОВА". ДЪРЖАЙТЕ НА ЖИВОТА, МОЯТ БЕБЕ._ **

**_МАМА.’_ **

**_and that image stayed with her ever since…_ **

****

**_“she’s a traitor!” a curly haired boy yelled._ ** **_lysandra’s_ ** **_eyes widen, as she couldn’t believe her ears. traitor?! TRAITOR?! after all she has done for them? not only did they find the message from her mom, but they found out all the blood packages from her bag. and what’s even worse was that she was part of the problem. she accidentally revealed herself, nearly biting georgiana and hissing through an outbreak. she was part of a group of teenage vampire hunters after all, whose primary goal was to attack, violate, and kill all vampires as there is a reported growth of some… internationally (there’s only one in new york, and it wasn’t her. she’s second). the gang attacked her — holding her back, punching her, stabbing her, scratching her and even pulling out one of her ‘fangs’. but the worst torture of them all: they tore apart the picture of her with her mother to itty bitty pieces._ **

**_she turned her head to the side, the arms of the person who was holding her breaking and wrist bones popping out, and was immediately let go, running away without looking back. just like she did in the past before._ **

****

_lysandra_ immediately let go of lucinda’s grasp and ran away past the older people, going to the bathroom and locking the door. peter was confused than ever. he was aware of magic, supernatural, and … _alot_ , being a vampire himself, but what was that? “it’s alot.” lucinda sighed, sitting on the couch. peter sat down next to her, seeing grizzy approaching him. he stroked her neck, while looking at the void of oblivion in front of him. “i… i can tell.” he sighed. he was lost of words. lucinda pursed her lips, her feet crossing and locking each other.

“you been wanting to know about _lys_ , right?... well… uh… i don’t know where she’s from, but seeing the text from a letter she had, she could be russian. she’s a runaway and is possibly a teenager, seeing that she did matured throughout those scenes i saw. she’s not human-“

“well, i know that.” peter shrugged. lucinda rose a brow, curiously. “she’s a vampire. a half one. one of those little rascals that tried to attack her said she’s a vampire. she fell into my hands and she smelt weird, compared to an average vamp-“

“wait, wait, pete… you’re a vampire?” lucinda asked. she didn’t sound scared though ( _or aroused_ ), but quite curious and a little excited. peter nodded and could only say, “yeah”. there was now just silence. “but yeah, she’s a dhampir. half vampire, half human. that woman in the photo, who was hugging her from behind, could be her mother and she’s dead. i don’t know if she’s a vampire or human, though… in fact… i don’t think lysandra is a girl. i mean, born as one or whatever.” lucinda resumed, continuing. peter wasn’t even surprised anymore.

“so, a transsexual?” he questioned. he didn’t sound disgusted though, because just by looking at _lysandra’s_ face, it resembled a sense of androgyny — a mixture of femininity and masculinity ( _thought he didn’t know that word. he has a gay sister, for god’s sake!_ ). he was rather… nonchalant about it. that was on _lysandra_ and not him. regardless of who you are, people are still gonna have an opinion on you, sadly. “yeah. in one of the scenarios, she looked like an effeminate little boy and then the next, like a plain little girl… unless… y’know… she says otherwise.” lucinda laughed. peter couldn’t help but laugh, too. but, the blood.

what was the blood on her face?

“she’s… i’m just gonna say in general sense… she’s a murderer. or a person that’s trying to defend herself. she was fighting and attacking people that was trying to hurt her, ripping their guts out, breaking bones, even crushing them using her mind.” lucinda shrugged. peter blinked so many times, trying to process his thoughts. even if he was a vampire, life was so mundane and he never really… murdered a person. biting doesn’t count ( _and he only bit like once or twice during his vamp timeline_ ). now he’s taking care of a feral hybrid.

**_great_ **.

the two went outside and grabbed the groceries, going back inside and putting them in whatever storage they were supposed to go in. lucinda grabbed a poptart and leaned on the kitchen’s counter, while peter was sitting on the counter. “ _lysandra’s_ a damn great shoplifter.” she laughed. peter gave out a small chuckle, but he was lost in his thoughts. he turned to lucinda. “how do you know all of this? how did you do **_that_ ** ?” he asked, emphasizing on ‘that’. lucinda pursed his lips and walked up to peter, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. “my man… i’ll tell you what… tomorrow or the 28 th … we will go on a little playdate. just call me whenever cause i’m free both times.” god, she was _so_ nonchalant. but he didn’t care and nodded.

lucinda let go of his shoulder and walked to the front door. she turned back to the giant upon her. “i just wanna say…. today was quite interesting. i made a friend and i saved a little kid. damn, i’m good at this. goodbye, peter. see you tomorrow or the day after. you’re cool.” she smiled, before opening the door and disappearing. peter got off the counter and watched through the window. lucinda got in her car and drove off. however, he could hear echoes of whimpers and cries. _lysandra_.

he went to the door and twist the knob, only to realize it was locked. _shit_ . thankfully, he had a screw and unlocked it by inserting it in the small hole. entering, _lysandra_ was fully nude and the tub was waterless. she was sitting fetus position, like always, and looked sad and embarrassed, with the red cheeks and furrowed brows. she probably didn’t even notice that peter was right there. “kid…”, peter sighed, before going in the tub and sitting behind her, “i’m right here.” _lysandra_ was still ignoring him, but peter didn’t care. he was eyeballing her, seeing the bruises, cuts, scars, and other injuries marking her. now he knew why she had blood on her face. she was cutting herself, an obvious dry slash on her wrist for one.

and he couldn’t be mad at her.

because he slashed his wrists, too.

peter wrapped his arms around her, wrapping around her torso, and moved her side to side. he placed his chin on her shoulder. “it’s okay… it’s okay…” he soothed, as her cries became harsher. _lysandra_ was slowly calming down, her head hanging down, and could only quietly whimper. to peter, she could be doing god knows what, with or without him, and… **_she was pretty important to him_ **.

“ _i’m sorry_ …”

that wasn’t his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes.... we big sad. lysandra is a trans woman (intersex!) ||| blm! black lives matter! black trans lives matter! i am a black lgbt+ woman so, read the room!!! ||| :^) the letter translated in english: 
> 
> 'my lovely lysandra, be whoever you want to be. although i am gone, my soul will still be by your side. you are your own spirit and may your spirit lead you to liberation and what is right. while you were born in so many different ways, as a vampirdzhiya, the wrong sex, the wrong name or whatever it is. keep on living, my baby. mama.'

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy it! please comment, leave kudos, and follow me on tumblr: shrivinglust. let's be friends. :)


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